Another Solution
by Fizz the Great
Summary: Family or friend. He has to choose or Eurus will kill both of them. There was no other way. He lifted the gun to his shoulder. And pulled the trigger. LOL
1. Chapter 1: Sherlock you absolute cock

Family or friend. He has to choose or Eurus will kill both 1of them. There was no other way. He lifted the gun to his shoulder. And pulled the trigger.

"Sherlock NO!"

 _Too late._

He felt himself falling. "SHERLOCK!" A familiar scent reached his nose. John's soft jacket brushed his face, luring him into a welcoming sleep.

"No, no, no, Sherlock!" It was his sister. Disappointment laced her words as she watched her brother's broken body on the ground. She was panicking. For some reason, Moriarty voice rang through the room yelling something about big bouncy red alerts. John hands were hovering over his shoulder, not sure what to do.

"Sherlock you absolute cock," John muttered, stripping off layers to reveal bare skin. He quickly took off his own jacket to stop the flow. Sherlock glanced up at Mycroft to see his face stark white and blanching even more every second. Medics suddenly burst in from the door carrying all sorts of equipment and John was shoved away. Sherlock barely had time to grasp his friend's hand before they placed an oxygen mask on his face and he slowly succumbed to the darkness surrounding.

—

"Sherlock you absolute cock,"

He opened is eyes to a blank wall. A heart monitor beeped next to him and his body was entangled in a series of tubes. He tensed, remembering the small episode of what happened last time when he was in a hospital. His shoulder ached as if a thousand needles were piercing it. Blinking furiously, he tried to clear his mind.

He shifted to get into a more comfortable position. An unexpected gasp escaped from him as he clenched his teeth to stop the pain. Finally regaining conscious again, he checked his surrounding. A plain white room, no windows or decorations. A plain picture of the six-year-old him was propped up on the bare table next. Groaning, he knocked the photo down. He has to find a way to get out of here.

The heart monitor pads went first. Peeling them off one by one, he then pulled out the IV line and the rest of the tubes stuck in his body. He was careful not to move his arm so much as he got out of bed. The hospital sheet hung loosely on his body, every movement causing pain to run up his arm. He managed a few steps before he realized another line still snagged him. Plucking it from his arm, he continued to take a few stumbling steps until he reached the door. Testing his shoulder, he pushed open the door. There was no one in sight.

Looking down the hallway, he made sure the coast was clear and started walking with one hand still grasping the bullet wound he so carelessly shot. He has to find where they're keeping John and his brother. The hallway was built the same as the prison so he's guessing he hasn't left the island yet. John must be in one of the holding cells. Sherlock starts to run.

He glanced back to make sure no one was following him. He was just about to turn at a corner when he quickly snapped back again. A guard was pacing at the intersection, gun held in his hand. _If he could just…_

Sherlock considered knocking the guard out and taking his uniform. The chances are slim to none, especially now with his injured state.

 _John._

He made up his mind. Waiting for the guard to turn his back, Sherlock quickly edged towards him. The guard whipped around, gun ready. Sherlock lashed out his leg, sweeping the man off his feet, punching him in the face. His head hit the floor with a heavy thud.

However, the victory only lasted a second because soon he felt warm liquid seep through as he gasped and clutched his shoulder again. He could feel the stitches ripping.

 _Not good,_ he thought, _not good at all._

It won't be long till he passes out due to blood loss. Just as he went over to grab the man's jacket, a shout came down the hallway. Realizing that someone has discovered him, Sherlock abandoned the man's uniform and started running.

 _Stupid stupid stupid!_ He reprimanded himself. What an idiot! He just wasted time on taking out a man, injuring himself, and calling attention to other guards. What was he thinking! Of course, his sister must have drugged the medication. She wouldn't want him escaping.

He turned a corner and kept on running, hand pushing at his bullet wound trying to reduce blood loss. More guards were following now, around four to five chasing him and he estimated that there will be three more down the hall. The quickest route should take him only 20 seconds yet outrunning the guards will pose another problem. He was eight yards from the door, and Sherlock could almost sense John behind the sealed gates.

Something buried in his neck. Confused, Sherlock reached to pull it out. It was a needle.

"John," He managed. He was right outside the doors now, vaguely aware of the two guards at his side grabbing his arm. And then he crumpled into a muddled mess.


	2. Chapter 2: Methanol

Sherlock woke up again to feel restraints at his wrists. Promptly, a voice responded to his reaction.

"Couldn't have my prey escaping,"

Sherlock pulled at the straps

"You ripped all your stitches," his sister said, forlorn . "My, my, my… naughty naughty, the doctor had to sew you up all over again," she frowned miserably at him.

Sherlock growled in frustration with no avail. Eventually, he gave up. Eurus' cold blue eyes followed him. For a strange reason, his vision seemed slightly impaired as the lines blurred in the back. He has perfect eyesight since he got here. He dismissed that for the drugs.

"You're really funny," she cocked her head innocently. "I would love to hear you laugh but you never seem to be in the mood,"

"What do you want?" Sherlock spat. "It should be around two days since the girl called about the plane crashing. What did you do?"

"Can't you deduce it?"

Sherlock didn't reply. The lines blurred even more.

"Come on Sherlock, you're a bit slow today," Eurus shook her head sadly. Sherlock blinked at her, his vision growing distorted every second. Eurus looked down at him in disdain. "Oh dear, you can do better than that," she said. "the plane crashed. There's no more going back now,"

For a split second, Sherlock must've imagined Eurus pursing her lips to stop herself from crying.

"No more, going back," Eurus traced her finger down his cheek. "The plane crashed. You're too… late," her expression shifted and she smiled. "You don't know _how_ much I miss you," she whispered. She leaned close to his ear. "No more running now Sherlock," she breathed. "The game, has just started,"

His vision was growing poor to the point where Eurus' hair blurred with the surrounding white walls. He could barely tell where her eyes where.

 _Something's in the IV line,_ he instantly deduced. _Damn._

And then his brain shut down.

—

"Sherlock…"

He rolled over to escape the blinding light.

"Sherlock."

 _Stop_.

"Open your eyes,"

 _Stop it._

"Sherlock!"

Sherlock blinked bleary at the voice. He was met with a sudden wave of nothing.

"Sherlock? Are you there?"

Confused, he rubbed his eyes then tested his sight again. Nothing. He obviously wasn't seeing any color close to black or white, more like he was looking through the back of his head.

Blankness, could be from orthostatic hypotension but unlikely, he's not seeing black so postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome won't be it either. Neither will it be ophthalmic migraines, though his head did hurt he deduced it was from lying on the ground for so long. No rings or flashes of light is appearing in his vision so he crossed that out too.

He checked his pulse. 135. His pulse is far too fast for his liking though it might be from the morphine. He fleetingly remembered his vision growing poor and his brain reminding him about something in the IV line. He tested all the facts he got from his state and came to a settlement.

Conclusion, he is rendered blind by something in the IV line.

 _The game has just started._

He started rattling off the names of drugs and medicine that can blind a person briefly. Methanol, wood alcohol, Jimson Weed, Tamoxifen…

"Sherlock!?"

"John," he started. The man on the other side seem to have collapsed in relief.

"Sherlock! You're ok, oh my god I was so worried," he fretted.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," Sherlock said with a hint of annoyance to reassure John. He slowly stood up and felt for the wall.

"Sherlock, what happened?" John continued. "I heard you at the end of my cell yesterday. Did you… did you break out of your hospital bed?"

"Brilliant deduction," he said. There was a split second of silence at the end.

"You ripped your stitches didn't you?"

Sherlock sighed and rubbed his eyes again, hoping his vision could come back. "John, tell me what your cell looks like. Have you seen Mycroft yet?"

"No, they lead him somewhere else. I was put in the cell first while they continued down the hall," John said. "My cell has no doors or windows. There's two cameras at the corners. You?"

Sherlock groaned and massaged his head. He probably laid on the ground for an hour, a mild sedative.

"Sherlock, you okay?"

 _Thin wall_ , he deduced. No, incorrect, maybe…

He pushed at the wall. It fell straight out and Sherlock felt a whoosh of air as the wooden board landed.

"Sh-Sherlock?"

"John," he greeted. He hoped he wasn't positioned so far off. His flatmate noticed either way.

"Sherlock, what happened to your eyes?"

The drug must have drained the color from his eyes. Instinctively, he reached up to cover it. "Brief loss of vision, its insignificant," he quickly said.

In seconds, John was at his side. He flinched when John touched the right side of his face. So he was off the mark by quite a lot.

"You're blind," he said.

Sherlock gritted his teeth, frustrated at the sentence. "Temporality," he corrected. "It has something to do with the new game we're playing,"

"New game? What about the plane?"

"Crashed," he replied curtly. John was silent. "I couldn't kill any of you," he defended. It was true. He was torn between two sides and even if he did kill one of them, there still wouldn't be a 100 percent chance the plane won't crash. Even in the previous 'games' he played with Eurus, lives were still wasted and they had gotten nowhere of landing the plane.

"It's okay," John quietly said.

"We have to find Mycroft,"

"I know,"

The speaker crackled above them. "Well well well! How does it feel to be blind, Sherlock?"

He sensed John tense up next to him. There must be a TV somewhere in this room.

"Surprisingly well," he replied, his voice leaving no room for emotions. He probably wasn't facing the screen or any of the CCTV. He didn't really care.

"Wonderful, I would love for you to be at your top efficiency in this new game we're playing," Eurus said with a smile to her words. "How exciting!" He could almost sense Eurus clasping her hands together in gaiety.

John moved protectively in front of him. Sherlock resisted the urge to push past him and slam his fists in the screen.

"John, please be Sherlock's little guide dog and lead him to the next door, I hope you'll all find a little surprise in there," Eurus said happily.

Sherlock hears the door at the far end slid open. John roughly grabbed his hands and pulled him towards the door. He knows Eurus is still watching them, enjoying how useless he is. He narrowed his eyes then balled his hands into fists. John said nothing and continued to guide him through the room.

"Come on let's gooo!" Moriarty's voice sang. He continued to walk, trying to keep his face passive despite the anger boiling under his skin. The air around him suddenly dropped several degrees. John gave a short intake of air and stopped. They have reached the next room.

 **Can someone be a friend and beta for me. Last day of Chinese New Year~ happy new year guys~**


End file.
